


Petals and Starlight

by Oliolioxicodone



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Angst, F/M, Internal Monologue, Post canon, doubt comes in: the Eurydice edition, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22229023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliolioxicodone/pseuds/Oliolioxicodone
Summary: In the dark of the night Eurydice experiences a doubt of her own. It isn’t a trick, it isn’t a test, but a question of the trust she has in herself, in her love.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Petals and Starlight

In the dead of night, a young girl sat perched on the seat of a windowsill, gazing silently up into the heavens. Even with the light of the moon shining down from the winter twilight, Eurydice was hidden, embraced by darkness. Exhausted, trembling from the cold she continued to sit, knees hugged into her chest. She was paralyzed, control of her body handed over to anxiety. She couldn’t admit it, not out loud at least, that what terrified her to this point was also the thing she loved the most. 

Several feet away her husband slept, tucked safely under a collection of mismatched quilts, the cold unable to penetrate his amour of fabric. His sleeping figure, chest rising and falling rhythmically called her to crawl back under the same covers, to take solace in his arms and the security of their bed. Yet here she stayed, her warm exhales fogging over the windowpane.

Staring with empty eyes out into the night Eurydice’s mind began to spiral downwards, into a darkness of her own creation. Together they had survived so much, survived the unthinkable. Anyone madly, stupidly enough in love would make promises of willingness to venture into the underworld to save the soul of their love. These promises were made out of stardust, a metaphorical declaration of dedication. But Orpheus, her sweet Orpheus, did more than promise. He had kept and upheld such impossible words. His love for her was a star, blinding in its light, never wavering or dimming in shine. 

Was her love a star? Together did their romance create a constellation, a decoration glittering in the darkness? Or was her love simply a flower, just as beautiful as a star upon first glance, but no amount of water or care could keep a flower vibrant forever.

Orpheus had told her honey-sweet promises, whispered between sunshine kisses yet she was lured away by the thought of warmth and food, too careless and eager to rinse the taste from her mouth when tempted. Months had passed since their return. Spring had come again, the seasons cycled, but Eurydice felt as though she was stuck in time. 

Would she have done the same for him, had somehow he found himself soulless? The idea seemed so ridiculous Eurydice could have laughed. Orpheus would have never done such a thing, his soul radiates light like the sun, even the despair of the underworld couldn’t extinguish his faith and love. But if in some horrible reality, should his flame flicker out and he fall victim to the same mistake she had made, could she save him? She had no song to sing, no lyre strum. There was only her, and her pitiful flower of love.

Could her love for him guided them home, illuminated the long and unforgiving road out of hell, or would her flower have wilted, mind submitted to doubt, and eyes glanced behind? Orpheus had told her stories of his doubt, how voices echoed within his mind when he could not hear her footsteps behind him or her voice calling out to him. Despite this he continued forward, pushing towards a light that never seemed to come closer until moments before their freedom. Those final steps haunted her poet. His feet begged to betray him, to turn back and confirm that she was there, at the cost of condemning her forever, he had explained to her between apologetic sobs upon reaching the top. But he hadn’t.

Now it was her turn to experience doubt’s nimble fingers wrap around her throat. There was no question of his love for her, and Eurydice knew that every fibre of her being loved him, but her concerns lay in if it -- if she -- would ever be enough. He was everything, before her he was the boy touched by the gods, and now he was the hero who had brought the seasons back into tune with the love he had for her. 

But who was she to believe that she was worthy of his love? Who did she think she was, to be able to truly love someone like him? Looking up at the moon to plead for an answer to her questions, tears welled in her eyes. She had never known fear like this, a fear birthed from happiness. The idea of losing this joy, of feeling him slip from between her fingers terrorized her mind, unrelenting and unapologetic.

Part of Eurydice wanted to shake Orpheus awake, to shout at him as tears left track marks trailing over her cheeks as she begged for clarity. Even after all she had done to him, to run away like a coward, to abandon his heart in the name of her stomach, he forgave her and continued to love her. She wasn’t deserving of such a thing, of such a love. She craved some reason, an explanation, to make sense as to why he loved her -- her, who had nothing to offer him but a withering blossom.

Any moment her poet would stir before feeling around in a sleepy haze for her being. When he found her spot in bed cold he would rise, silently pad over to where she sat before gently wrapping her in a blanket and pressing a kiss to her head. He would bring her back to bed, their bodies would mold together, and sleep would claim the couple once more. Another night would fade into dusk, and in this silence, her doubts would continue to bloom, unspoken.


End file.
